Mask
by Ysidro
Summary: During a case slump Watari gives L some...interesting reading material.  An odd comparison between the world's top detective and the Dark Knight.


Disclaimer: DC Comics owns Batman, Death Note to Takeshi Ohbata and Tsugumi Ohba and I own the waitress.  
>AN: This is one comparison I just had to make. You'll see just how similar these two characters and worlds are. And I used the stereotypical version of Saskatchewan because it's the first area I could think of. This would take place prior to the Kira Investigation.  
>"chikushou" means "damn" in Japanese apparently.<p>

L stared out the window of his newest abode, a ramshackle motel in the middle of Saskatchewan Canada. Watari had insisted that they go somewhere exceedingly out of place so that his location would not be detected. L certainly wouldn't have looked for him here. It was in the middle of nowhere.  
>L sighed as he took a sip of his coffee. He made a face; it was the instant kind and tasted horrible. He made a mental note to get Watari to pick him up a fresh coffee from the little diner they had seen on the way in. L had been forced to drive with Watari in a beat up rented car so they wouldn't attract attention. All L wanted was something to keep his attention.<br>L had finished all of his cases. Every last one of them. Every case that involved ten or more murder victims or some political repercussions was solved. L had nothing to keep him occupied, nothing to stimulate his brain. He had already finished three full books of crosswords and five of word searchs and scrambles. L sighed and leaned his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes.  
>He lifted his head and turned around at the sound of the door opening.<br>"Watari?"  
>"Ah, hello Ryuzaki," Watari smiled. He was carrying a very large cardboard box in his arms. "Would you mind helping me with these?"<br>L didn't even respond as he got up and took the box from the old man's hands. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed the six other boxes sitting out front. The detective assisted his mentor in carrying the remaining boxes into his room. He pressed a thumb to his lips as he lifted one of the boxes again, shifting the weight from one hand to another. He put it back down and started to murmur.  
>"Judging by the weight and sounds coming from within these boxes, there is a 97% chance that they contain newspapers. There is also an 86% chance they contain information with regards to a new case."<br>"I'm sorry Ryuzaki, but your calculations are wrong," Watari smirked, tapping a box. "Open it."  
>L undid the flaps…and nearly fell over.<br>"Amazing are they not?" Watari said, taking out one of the box's contents. "Not exactly mint condition, but that means they are loved."  
>"They are…comic books Watari."<br>L held up a comic book with his thumb and his index finger, holding it far away from his face in disgust. Watari had used his well-earned money to purchase children's books? It was ridiculous…insulting even. He put the comic back and continued on drinking his coffee. He plopped three more sugar cubes in the cup, trying to get the almost tangible taste of musty newsprint out of his mouth.  
>"They are not just comic books," Watari replied, taking out an especially old one. "They are a part of my life, and yours L."<br>Ryuzaki tilted his head and took the comic. It was yellow with a red skyline as a background. A fully grown man in a gray skin-tight outfit and a black mask and cape was swinging on a rope. A young man in a similar outfit that was yellow, green and red was swinging beside him. A logo with the man's head on the top read 'Batman.'  
>"I don't understand Watari," Ryuzaki said softly, looking at the comic. "Why would a fully grown man dress up in a costume in order to punish criminals?"<br>"That's a good question," Watari smiled, gesturing towards the comics. "Maybe if you read them all you'll be able to answer your own question."  
>"I suppose I have nothing else to do," L shrugged as he took the comic out of its plastic sheaf. "You don't mind Watari?"<br>"Not at all Ryuzaki," Watari said, waving dismissively. "Just take care of them. I'll see you in the morning."  
>Watari shut the door to Ryuzaki's room, leaving the detective to his reading.<p>

The next day dawned bright and sunny, shining through the yellow curtains of his room. L had stayed up all night, reading every single page. He hadn't drank a single cup of coffee or tea, nor eaten a single sweet. The comics alone had given him the fuel to remain awake all night; he had no need for a caffeine or sugar boost.  
>He now understood why the man on the cover…Bruce Wayne…wore a mask. He wanted to be protected, to remain anonymous. The hero who was always thanked, but whose true identity was only wanted so that people could faun over him. Either that or kill him. No one really wanted to just be his friend…they all wanted something from him.<br>Watari had wanted L to read these comics for a reason besides to keep his mind occupied. 'L' and 'Batman' were identical. Bruce Wayne hid behind a black mask, L. Lawliet hid behind a computer screen. Batman was called with the Bat Signal, L had his insignia. Both of them were rich, but had little, if any, friends who knew who they really were. They hid in secret places; Batman had his Bat Cave and L had his…he looked at the motel room…his ever changing lodgings. Everyone wanted something from them, except for one person.  
>Bruce Wayne had his butler Alfred. Alfred, the man who had taken care of him since his parents had been murdered. The man was more than just a butler, but a father figure as well. L. Lawliet had Watari, who had a similar role in his life. Watari had kept an eye on him for as long as he could remember. Ever since he was a child the old man had been there to look after him. Even now, though L. Lawliet was a man behind a computer screen to the rest of the world, Watari looked after him. L smiled and took out the first comic. He put it in a bag and slung it over his shoulder.<br>Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ryuzaki got up to go outside. It was only five in the morning, so L decided it was best for him to avoid waking Watari. Normally he would have just waited in his room for Watari to go and get him a cup of coffee, but he couldn't stand another moment without caffeine. Besides, no one would be conscious enough to really notice how odd he looked. And the bags under his eyes could easily be taken for too little sleep, which was essentially correct. L exited the room and locked up, headed to the diner.

"What can I getcha?" a waitress said, walking over to L's booth. He was rereading the first comic eagerly.  
>"A coffee," he replied, not looking up. Right now his comic was his mask.<br>"Sure you don't want today's breakfast special? Three sausages, two eggs, two pieces of toast and a side of hashbrowns."  
>"Though I'm sure that Heart-Attack-Waiting-To-Happen-Platter is delectable…I'll stick to a coffee."<br>The woman turned around with a huff as L continued reading.  
>L never thought he'd see the day when he would be sitting in a coffee shop reading a comic book. Actually, he never thought he'd be sitting alone in a coffee shop period. Maybe this was his way of momentarily taking off his mask, just to let his face get some air. One day he might just take it off permanently; let the world know that he was in fact L and that he had solved all those cases. One day…<br>"Chikushou!"  
>It all happened so fast.<br>The burning of scalding coffee running down his arm.  
>His cry in a mixture of pain and shock.<br>The comic slipping from his faltering grip.  
>The fragile paper absorbing the liquid far too fast.<br>The waitress apologizing repeatly.  
>"Get away from here!" L cried, ripping a wad of napkins out of their holder as he took the sopping wet book out of the puddle of coffee. "I'll take care of this myself!"<br>L took the comic book and moved it to the other side of the booth, away from the coffee. Frantically, he started dabbing at the cover, hoping to absorb the liquid faster. When that didn't work, he started rubbing at the soaked comic book.  
>L watched in horror as the front cover ripped in half along with about five other pages. He cried out in frustration, holding what was left of Watari's comic book. Tears glistened in his eyes as he held the pieces to his chest, running back to his room. He didn't bother paying for the coffee; something told him it was on the house…and his comic book.<p>

"Ryuzaki?" Watari said, opening up his ward's door. "Ryuzaki...are you here?"  
>"Yes Watari," L replied softly, sitting in the darkness of the room. "I'm here."<br>"Did you enjoy your reading material?" Watari smiled as he patted a box. "I hope you found them interesting…Ryuzaki! What happened to your arm?"  
>L looked up at his mentor, eyes glistening with tears. He had been so worried about the comic book he had neglected to tend to his burn. Now it was sloppily covered in gauze, but L was sure it would scar over. He sighed.<br>"There is a 99.68% chance you will be angry with me," L frowned. "I went to the diner to get a coffee and was reading the first edition of Batman. The waitress spilled coffee on my arm…and I dropped the book."  
>L held out the comic book weakly. He had dried out the soaked pages under a hand dryer, but there were still brown stains on the pages. L had taken Scotch tape to the torn paper, fixing it as best he could. It looked horrible; a true mockery of a prized possession. L turned his head away as Watari took the book.<br>"You're right…I am angry at you," Watari said firmly, holding the book. "But not because of this. The thought that you would consider a book to be more important than our relationship offends me."  
>"I…I…I'm sorry Watari," L stammered as he looked down in shame. "I didn't mean to."<br>"I know Ryuzaki," Watari said, heading to the washroom. "Now where is that First-Aid Kit? It's time someone who knows what they're doing fixed you up."  
>L smiled as he unwound the gauze, discarding his aloof disguise as one would a mask.<p>

End!


End file.
